Young Justice: The RED Years
by Mxsked-Robin
Summary: Robin lost everything after the failure to stop Trigon. His friends sacrificed their life to save his; sending him to an alternate universe where things might be similar- but so very different. In this world, he's not the only Robin anymore; and he's forced to don an old mantle that represents an old mistake. Red X. There will be no mistakes... not this time. Rated: M for violence.
1. Chapter One: Born From Ashes

[RED X: YEAR ZERO]

 **||Universe 17, October 25th 2009, 13:12 PDT, Location: Destroyed Jump City||**

"I was raised by my friends! They are my _family_! **This** is my home! -And you are _**not welcome here! Azarath Metrion Zinthos!**_ " There was a bright flashing light, and the world shook. Robin held up his gauntlet covered hand above his eyes, blocking the blinding light. Hope burned inside of him as Raven fought her father, and for a moment- he thought she had managed to destroy him.

Though that hope crumbled when even after she expelled her magic to it's limits- Trigon just laughed viciously. Raven took in a shaking breath as her magic dissipated from the air, her eyes widened, and she trembled. The laughing of the demon became louder, until it was a dull roar in their ears.

" **Little girl, you thought you could hurt the person who gave you your powers in the first place?** " The demon snarled. " **I shall teach you obedience yet, by killing your so called…family- and once I break your spirit- I will kill you too.** "

"Don't you lay a hand on them!" Raven snarled. In the Titans' minds, they all heard Raven's frantic cry of ' _RUN, I'LL HOLD HIM OFF!_ ' echoing through their heads. None of the titans moved, and she looked panicked. 'WHAT ARE YOU DOING? _RUN! PLEASE, HE'LL KILL YOU!_ '

Starfire's voice came back over the telepathic link. ' _Friend Raven, it is our obligation as heroes of earth and as your family; to stand by you in the final battle._ '

' _We love you Rave._ ' Came Beastboy's voice inside the link, his mental voice sounding more grim than usual, but determined. ' _We're going to be here for you, no matter what happens._ '

Cyborg was next. ' _That's just what family is for, ain't it?_ '

Robin smiled to himself wobbly. For the last time, he cried- "Titans Go!"

* * *

After that, everything was like static on an old cable television. Except no matter how many times you hit the TV, the reception just doesn't come in any clearer. His mind blocks a lot of the memories of his friends' deaths, because if it didn't, Robin imagined that the grief would kill him before Trigon ever does.

He knows that the blood on his tunic is Starfire's, from when he held her while she was bleeding out in his arms. He knew that she was gone, but his mind blocked the images from him in a way he was simultaneously thankful and angered by. He felt robbed of his final moments with her, but he had a deep feeling in the pit of his gut that he doesn't want to remember those moments.

Beastboy had saved Raven in the end, and afterwards Beastboy got what he always wanted. Undivided attention. He had made a joke in his final moments.

Robin doesn't remember what it was.

When Robin and the others had regrouped, Raven had told them there was still a chance to escape. They just had to get to the Tower.

Cyborg said he'd attract Trigon's attention and keep him busy while Raven was preparing whatever plan she was going to enact. Robin and he had argued until each of their voices were hoarse. Robin wanted to be the one to do it, he wanted to be the distraction- because he knew that this was a suicide mission; and Robin didn't think he could stand to lose anyone else.

In the end, it wasn't up to him. Cyborg had just given him a sad smile and ran back into battle anyway.

When they had gotten to the tower, the feelings hit him in a way that paralyzed him. If Raven hadn't have shaken him out of it, he probably still would have stood, mouth gasping in breath on the verge of hyperventilation as memories of just two days ago flashed behind his eyes. They had been happy…

and now it was the end of the world.

Raven was more subdued than usual; her eyes were so tired. When Robin had asked her where they would escape to, she had cryptically replied- 'Somewhere that this will never happen, I promise you that Robin. We'll be safe there.'

Raven's death he remembers a bit more of, because he remembers the sweet way she smiled at him. The way her tired eyes looked so happy, like she had done something good. 'The portal calls for a blood sacrifice Robin, I was never coming with you.'

Maybe it shouldn't have felt like a betrayal. After all, she had sacrificed her life for his. Given hers so he would live.

He still felt the bitter sting of betrayal anyways. The anger bubbling in his gut at the fact she didn't care about herself enough to live too. How she left him alone.

Down down down. Into the abyss. He doesn't know how long he was falling, all he knows is that it felt like he was going to fall forever. Eventually, his eyes shut. Wistfully he hoped that something went wrong with the spell, that he'd die too.

He didn't.

* * *

[RED X: YEAR ZERO]

 **||Universe 16, October 25th, 2009, 20:32 CST, Location: Gotham City||**

With a groan of pain, Robin could feel the ache of every fiber of his body. He did a catalog of his injuries and found that the worst of them were possibly bruised ribs and burns from the fighting. The magic of the portal had left him with a weak tingling feeling in his extremities and a small case of myalgia in his muscles. Though otherwise, he was fine. When he opened his eyes, he blinked rapidly behind his mask. Finding that he was on a roof top. He struggled to push himself upwards, body screaming at him- begging him to just lie down. His exerted muscles were pushed passed the point of exhaustion frequently though, so Robin was able to grit his teeth and ignore the throbbing in his head as he situated himself upright. Instead he focused on the fact that he could hear things other than the crackling of hell fire. That and the fact that he didn't see fire anywhere. Only the dark shadows of night.

His mind was racing, as below he could see pedestrians milling about on the streets below him. Cars honking. The city was alive and bustling with citizens.

The world was alive.

His joy was short lived when he found out where he was, looking over the urban landscape, he saw a sight he had left behind years ago. A city of darkness, where the protector was as broken as the people he fought. From the building he was on, Robin was elevated above the layer of perpetual smog that hung over the city like a dark shadow. Though the air was cleaner up here, the familiar smell of the city around him had his throat clamping up.

Gotham. He was in Gotham.

He shook against the gust of wind that billowed his cape. He rubbed his face wearily and forced himself to his feet, he staggered- the world spinning for a moment, but he stood firm. Raven said she'd send him somewhere else, was he in the past then? Before Trigon appeared? Robin resisted the urge to snarl to himself. One of the many reasons he didn't like magic was it's unpredictability. He had no idea when he was.

She should know better than sending him back in time though, temporal disruptions can have huge impacts and far reaching consequences. Then again, if he had a chance to save the world- he'd take the risk.

He opened his utility belt and reached for his communicator. He could always explain this to his current self and find a way to save his friends. The preparation time might help when trying to find a way to stop Trigon's reckoning. It wasn't the best plan, but for right now it was the only one he had. Flipping the communicator open, he raised it to try and get a signal. "Robin to Teen Titans. Robin to Titans. Do you copy Titans?" There was nothing, not even static. Just a black screen, as if the Titan's network hadn't even been set up ye-

Oh no.

Just how far back did Raven send him?

Hearing the tell-tale sound of a grappling line, he dropped down- he saw a large shadow leap the gap between two buildings not too far away from him- he narrowed his eyes a held his breath until he was sure **he** didn't see him. Behind, he could see another smaller shadow trailing behind the larger shadow. Was that-?

He took out his binoculars from his utility belt, he zoomed in and saw what was indeed Batman...

As well as a Robin.

He stayed crouched for a long time until the shadows passed, not wanting to be seen. He could feel nausea building in his gut. Did Batman replace him? No, if he was in the past then that would be the younger version of **himself.** But that outfit- it was completely different to anything he's ever worn as Robin. Dark colors, less flamboyancy and more subdued. Obviously not meant to be as much of a symbol, but more utilitarian. For stealthy combat.

If Raven didn't send him into the past-

He gripped a hand in his hair. Tugging on it harshly. He used the pain as an anchor, to focus.

Raven herself was a being from a different dimension, she had admitted that when her father had appeared. If that didn't convince him, there was always Larry- who had insisted that he was an imp from the fifth dimension and was an alternate version of Robin. That meant that alternate universes were real.

So, was he in one of them now?

He needed to get out of his suit, if there was already a Robin here- then he couldn't upset the balance of things. In the bright red he felt like a glaring symbol of the world he left behind. Here he was nothing. He needed to go incognito before either duplicates of his old mentor or himself saw him and decided to interrogate him.

He was stuck here now; his friends were gone- he had no reason to try and get back to the destroyed world he left. However, was there any reason at all to even bother to keep living in this new world?

He thought back to Cyborg's sacrifice, as well as Raven's. They had died to save **him**. He breathed deeply and held back the full body shudder that wanted to make him jolt. His life wasn't up for forfeit. Not now, not ever. He owed it to them, to use the gift that they had given him. If he gave up, it would be like spitting in their faces. It didn't matter what Robin felt like, it didn't matter if he felt like he didn't even have the energy to move- he needed to. He had to. For the sake of their memory.

As long as he lived on, they would too in his memories.

With that final thought, he stood and dropped down into the alleyways of Gotham.

* * *

Navigation in 'New Gotham' was about the same as the old city. Layout wise, the structural similarity was familiar to him on most levels. Everywhere he looked, it was like a case of déjà vu would smack him right in the face. He remembers events in his mind tied to specific locations, events that likely didn't, wouldn't, or hadn't yet happened in this universe.

Despite the fact that he was in this new world, the call of the hero inside him still spurred him into action all the same when he heard someone being coerced by thugs with switchblades. He used his birdarangs to take out the crooks, staying in the shadows until the would-be victim got their bearings and ran out of the alleyway. Likely to call police.

He didn't show himself during the fight and didn't fight the thugs directly- since he was still in his Robin outfit. He couldn't risk the idea of someone seeing him.

Robin would admit, that the next thing he did was an act of desperation. One he hopes he never has to do again for any reason. He quite literally stole the clothes off of one unconscious mugger's back.

Upon closer inspection, the thugs were high-school aged kids, and he frowned to himself. Poverty rates and harsh upbringings in Gotham were already turning people his age into criminals. Not that he hasn't fought a lot of criminals his age, H.I.V.E comes to mind; but still.. It was something he wasn't used to. Being in Jump City for so long, he forgot how ugly the streets of Gotham could be.

He got changed, the jeans were a big too tight for his taste and were more like skinny jeans. He couldn't tell if the bleach stains and rips in the knees were supposed to be a style- or if the clothes were just that old and worn out. The Letterman jacket and white tee-shirt smelled like cigarette smoke and sweat, which made him visibly cringe. He didn't dare take the shoes- instead he stuck with his own steel-toed boots.

He folded his Robin outfit; the gloves tights and tunic were better off being burned. The cape and utility belt were things he couldn't afford to leave behind. The utility belt for obvious reasons, and his cape for the reasons that it was valuable protection. Not only that, but high-density polymerized titanium was expensive.

When he saw the cape though, he had sucked in a startled breath of air. The ends were frayed and tattered, and the inside of the cape had lost its yellow color- looking faded and worn out. The ash and soot covering it made the inside of the cape look a light dirty grey in color.

His cape in the past had survived getting hit by a blast that had destroyed the engine of a space ship, Hot Spot's fire, and prolonged heat beams. But it seemed that Trigon's hell fire had been strong enough to finally do some lasting damage to the fabric.

Robin closed his eyes, thinking of how many things have been irreversibly changed by the demon. The thought of his friends comes to mind, and he feels the failure like sins crawling along his back.

The sound of a car honking in the distance brought him out of his revere. Right, _**survival**_. He needed to focus on that for right now. He pushed away the grief and guilt. If his friends were there, they would tentatively tell him that bottling things up isn't healthy.

…but they weren't.

He took off the domino and frowned as he did so, the spirit gum leaving his skin red and puffy underneath. He rubbed the soreness around his eyes. He folded the mask and put it into a compartment in his belt. He then snapped the utility belt around his shoulders- hidden under the Letterman jacket he wore.

The humidity in the air has caused his hair to rapidly lose its spike. The gel losing it's hold in his hair. As he walked out of the alley and walked past a reflective window, he resisted the urge to frown. He looked like a drowned rat like this. Another reason he hated Gotham. He held his folded costume tighter to his chest, a grimace coming to his face.

His next task was a relatively easy to accomplish. He tracked down the nearest burn barrel that the homeless crowded around. He went to one that didn't have people huddling around it and dropped his uniform into the flames. He watched solemnly as the flames ate up his past.

He then bowed his head and got his bearings.

* * *

So, after a night on the street- his mental list was starting to look a lot like this;

First of all, Robin needed a plan. He needed to think things through. First thing is first- information is power. He needs access to the Batcomputer. That would have all the information he'd need and more. Breaking in physically wasn't an option, so that meant he'd have to do it remotely. He'd need a computer, first and foremost. The local library should take care of that easily enough- he'd be able to do it within an adequate time frame if this Batman's mind still worked the same, he'd just have to be careful not to trip any alarms that showed external tampering. Or it was over before it had even begun.

Second, if he was going to be here for any length of time- he needed currency. In this universe, he couldn't siphon funds out of Bruce Wayne's accounts. That would be attracting all the wrong attention, and to be honest- he wasn't sure if he wanted to announce his presence yet or at all. Let alone in such an idiotic manner. Not only did he need currency, but he needed an identity. He wasn't Dick Grayson anymore. He couldn't be. Not when there was most probably already a version of him out there, likely the Robin that is by Batman's side now.

Third- after the source of income problem was fixed, and after he got an alias- he'd need to focus on his goals while here. He knew there was no other option than to be a vigilante, by now it was bred into his bones- heroism was practically coded into his DNA. He wouldn't be able to be _normal_ , he'd go insane. Besides, his friends didn't give up their lives so he could play house. They did it because they cared about him, because they thought he was a good person that would do the right thing- no matter what messed up alternate dimension he ended up in.

He was going to do the right thing.

But he couldn't stay Robin.

* * *

The next day, after charming the librarian in the library to let him use one of the computers despite the fact that he didn't have a library card, he went to work. Thinking of the plan he had settled on the night before.

The previous night his thoughts had wandered for a long time as he sat near the burn barrel. The crackle of the fire having melted away some of the chill that had settled into his bones from the cold weather. He'd stayed out there, didn't sleep; didn't even try, he was afraid of what memories would haunt him in his dreams. Instead he'd just let his mind try and wrap itself around his situation.

His eyes had kept being drawn back to the cape in his lap. A certain ghost seemed to linger in his mind when he stared at the tattered fabric for too long. He knows why he feels nausea- because it reminds him of the shadow he used to be. Of the mystery he never solved. The mistake he'd made.

The Batcomputer still ran on a similar network, and still had the same encryption type to the one in his old world. A small thing he was thankful for, since it made his work easier. He checked over his work countless times as he made sure he couldn't be detected or traced. His fingers flying over the keyboard of the computer that was likely older than him. The monitor was one of those old school monitors that was so obtuse and heavy; the table it sat on seemed to creak occasionally from the weight. He doesn't know how he managed to hack the 'better than military grade equipment' Batcomputer with a computer that used _Internet Explorer_ as it's default browser- but he did it. When the Librarian came to check on him, he switched to another tab that was open on some college website. He gave a small smile, and when she was gone- he went back to work.

He read through the information presented to him. Apparently, the Robin in this universe was indeed an alternate Dick Grayson- much of which he'd already assumed. He was surprised because it didn't even _look_ like him. There were similarities of course, their eye, hair, and skin color were the same. Though, this Dick Grayson looked nothing like how he himself looked at his age. Batman was still Bruce Wayne (though he'd assumed that as well). The Bruce Wayne in this universe looked startlingly like his old mentor- the only difference were the eyes. Instead of being a cold and calculating blue- they were a dark unreadable brown. Apparently, Batman had only been around for a decade or so in this universe, which had shocked Robin. Practically none of the league's members had any long term experience. It was startling to find out in this universe, he had almost more than half as much experience as the duplicate of his mentor. The doppelganger Robin meanwhile, barely had three years under his belt.

Hours later, the librarian had let him know she was closing up soon- and he had begrudgingly started to move to shut everything down- though he stopped himself as he had a thought. "I just need a few more minutes, I'm just finishing up with a job resume." The lie came easily, and it bought him some time. The older woman rolled her eyes but nodded before she disappeared into another room, and when he made sure she was gone; he unbuttoned his Letterman jacket. He pulled out the corner of his cape that was bunched up inside, flush between his chest and his jacket.

He pinched the torn fabric of his cape with his pointer finger and thumb, rubbing the material between the pads of his fingers. Feeling the holes and the rips that marred the once pristine fabric. He couldn't be Robin anymore. From what Starfire told him- he had an alter ego in the future…. back on his home world. The thoughts of her made his head spin, and he had to fight not to hyperventilate. He shook his head, as if trying to physically dislodge the painful memories.

She told him he had been Nightwing. Like the story that his world's Superman had told him about the Kryptonian hero named the same thing. His future self must have taken inspiration from it for his new identity. The thought of taking the Nightwing identity for himself was alluring, but he knew deep down it wasn't meant to be. He was here now in this universe, he had taken up a spot he had no right in taking. If it wasn't for the efforts of his friends, he'd likely would have died along with them, he wanted to be as unobtrusive on this world as possible. He couldn't take this Robin's possible future from him because he was running from old ghosts.

He knew there was only one choice. The tattered cape was almost like a sign. A sign he'd be stupid to ignore. If he couldn't run from his old ghosts, then he'd just **become** them. He'd make the identity something to be revered instead of shunned.

He typed in the words into the Batcomputer search engine network. Looking for any files pertaining to his search words. When the system flashed ' **No entries documented** ' he knew he was on the right track. He shoved his cape back into his jacket and buttoned it back up, he then exited out of the system and erased his presence from ever being there in the first place. He might have made a mistake, but this time- he could stop this version of himself from making the same one.

Red X was going to make a comeback.

This time as a hero.

* * *

 **A/N: Hey guys! I hope you enjoyed chapter one! Oh boy did this one spend a lot of time in the forge. I had originally thought the idea of using an OC as Red X, then I read the Teen Titans/Young Justice Red X Crossover by Hexalys (seriously go read it)- and I couldn't get the idea of TT Robin being forced to don his old mantel in order to survive in a world that is seemingly out to get him out of my head. First I tampered with the idea of Robin losing his memories, to give Red X some of that familiar mystery that he had in the show. Though I realized not only would losing his memories make it monumentally difficult for him to survive, but wouldn't give weight to his decision to be Red X again.**

 **Also! About the AU beginning! Hexalys made a wonderful idea of the Trigon arc which had given me my own idea. I made the decision early on that, if I was going to do a crossover, I wanted TT Robin to be completely alone and no chance of him going home. If he had the option to go home, to stay in character with his personality- he would be obsessively searching for a way to get back. To avoid this; I decided that the Titans' deaths were necessary to push forwards the story. It is HIGHLY unlikely that any characters from TT are coming back in this one unless they are villains. You can count on people like Professor Chang and maybe some people like Mammoth and stuff being in later chapters. After all, he'll need his own rouge's gallery. There might be some oc villains too later on, not sure- but a warning. Right now it is currently a year before the events of YJ season 1. So we still have a way to go before that happens.**

 **I wasn't focusing on the death of the Titans much in this chapter, for a lot of reasons actually. So there's that as well.**

 **Anyways, if you liked the story- then please leave a review down below.**


	2. Chapter Two: RED X: YEAR ONE

[RED X: YEAR ZERO]

 **||Universe-16, November 29th, 2009, 02:38 CST Location: Gotham City, East End||**

The stillness and lack of vents in the room made the air immobile and stagnate. Smoke lazily curling in the air but not dispersing like it would if the ceiling fan was on. This was a little-known hide-out for the Gotham mob. Normally the mob usually graced their presence in more chic surroundings, though this time they needed to go somewhere they know they wouldn't be disturbed. The motel they bought out years ago was good enough for them, the mob used it as a money laundering business as well as a place to meet up to play poker.

The manila carpet was stained from water damage, and there was a thick film of nicotine from smoke on the yellowing walls that used to once be a pristine alabaster white. In some places, it looked like bleach had bled the color out of the floor. Somebody probably once died in the room, and the bleach stains were likely the mob's halfhearted attempt to clean it up. There weren't any beds in this room, as it wasn't meant for boarding, the only furniture was a light-colored table and mismatching chairs.

Cards were shuffled across the table; scores and nicks marred its laminated plywood surface. Three men surrounded the table, they weren't dressed in a way that matched their run-down battered surroundings. Instead they were dressed in finely tailored, richly colored suits. The cigar hanging from one man's lips was a high-quality Cuban brand.

It was obvious; these weren't Gotham's regular crooks.

At the outer edges of the room was the security detail. They watched behind their dark lenses of their sunglasses as poker chips were moved back and forth across the table and suit cases of money were shown for the buy-in for the game. A woman with a tray of drinks came by and set down the respective glasses to each of the men at the table. She left quickly, body posture stiff and shoulders tense. She was scared.

The man hummed around his cigar, taking it out from his lips, it sat perched between his fingers and he knocked off the ash into the ash tray beside him. "So, how are business details?" He watched the other players as they checked their hands. He checked his own, and resisted the urge to make a pensive expression, not a good hand at all. He kept his face stoic and glanced around, noting that a man on his left looked nervously at his cards, rookie mistake.

"Can't leave business off the table for more than a minute, can you Antwan?" The nervous man said, what was his name again- Bob? He was new to the table, new to the mob too, just inherited his territory from his father. A pushover. Antwan could probably manipulate the bastard to give him the territory in a month. Still, he was biding his time for now. Besides, if his next business scheme paid off, he could use all the dirty money to leave the mob. Retire on some beach in the Bahamas. "You ever just enjoy the game?"

Antwan clicked his tongue at the man in distaste. "I'll focus on the game when I know that my profit margin is still going to be in the millions. You don't realize how lucrative this deal is, Bob. Martel, how is the merchandise doing?" He asked the other man at the table, who so far had been completely silent.

"Merchandise is fine. The women have been checked over by doctors, children are scheduled for tomorrow. They should be ready for the auction." He replied apathetically. Raising the bet with more chips. Martel's lip twitched, which caused the large mustache resting on his upper lip to jolt with it, but otherwise, that was the only reaction on his face.

Bob folded like Antwan knew he would, the young man then glanced back at Antwan, who raised the bet even higher. Antwan was trying to make Martel fold.

His phone buzzed in his jacket pocket, and he debated about ignoring it. Though he knew he only had his work phone with him, which meant it was mob business. He folded and grumbled to himself in remorse at the lost chips. He'd get another chance to win them back at least. At that thought, he stepped away from the table, not glancing back as Martel collected the chips with a coy grin. He checked the caller ID, noting that it was the phone number from one of his boys that the docks. Did something happen with the shipment? He answered his phone with a feigned disinterested grunt. "Antwan speaking. Something better be wrong down at the docks Carlos, because you just made me lose fifty grand."

A metallic voice rumbled through the other side, robotic and warped sounding. The chuckle that danced across the phone line made his stomach flip. "Carlos can't come to the phone right now. He's a bit…. tied up at the moment." The voice was cold under all those layers of mechanical warping. It chilled Antwan to his core. "Just thought I'd give a friendly heads up. You might want to pull out of the auction you were talking about. Since your merchandise just suddenly disappeared. It's a total mystery. Really." The sarcasm danced across the man's voice on the other side of the line. Or at least, Antwan assumed it was a man. With all the voice manipulation tech, it could be anyone.

He stiffened and fumbled around- looking around the room wildly. The security guards rose to attention, reaching to the IWB holsters for their weapons. "Who the hell is this? Are you spying on me?" He stomped his way over to the blinds, glanced out quickly at the Gotham landscape before shutting them closed.

"You, your boss, his boss. I'm watching everyone you affiliate yourself with." The voice replied. Sounding devoid of emotion, but there was a voice underneath all the layered metallic sounds. Like it was being filtered through something.

Suddenly the lights cut out, Bob yelled in shock and a gunshot went off in the dark. No doubt the kid, Bob had gotten spooked by the sudden blackout and had gotten trigger happy. He snarled at everyone to quiet down, as he went back to the phone. "What game are you playing?"

Silence on the phone.

"Answer me!"

There was the sound of thuds, more gunshots went off, but they never hit their target. With ease only coming from practice, the shadow had taken down the guards. Antwan tried to react, but he was too slow as a shadow hit into his side and smashed into his face. "What game I'm playing you ask?" The shadow chuckled, sounding just like the voice on the phone. Filtered and rough. He could feel the leer come closer. "The winning kind." The growl in the metallic voice was enough for the hair on the back of the criminal's neck to rise. His flesh raising with goosebumps and a chill rolling down his spine.

Antwan reached for his gun, but the figure snapped his wrist and he couldn't bite a shout of pain. He reeled back, only to have his head shoved roughly into the wall. Once, twice, the third time made his head spin.

Fingers bunched into the collar of his shirt and lifted him up. "Now, why don't you tell me more about this auction. After all, it's not like you're going to it now, since your merchandise is gone, and you'll be…" The feeling of something metal dragging along his throat made him freeze in his spot. At first, he thought it was the metal barrel of a gun, but then he realized that it wasn't the right shape. The metal pulled away for a moment, before flash of electricity ignited the dark, and his fears were answered. The fucker had an electrical quarterstaff pressed to his throat. "Preoccupied."

"Who the fuck are you? You ain't the Bat!" The Bat wouldn't have given him any warning, he wouldn't have taunted him on the phone. This guy was trying to make him scared by mocking him, when really- it was only making him pissed.

The man hit him with the quarterstaff with the electricity turned off, splitting his lip and making his jaw crack painfully together in a way that made him see sparks of light in the dark. He tried to spit a glob of blood at the figure, but Antwan only got a stiff pointed jab to his throat in return which made him choke and gasp for breath. "You should probably play nice." The guy used a weapon, which usually made up for a lack of strength in a fight, but it was obvious he was ridiculously strong; despite the shadow of the silhouette being smaller, too small to be the Bat. So was it the bird? The figure about matched in size. Another hit answered his question.

No.

So, not that he was weak, he just liking making people bleed. That meant it wasn't bird brains either. The kid wasn't brutal. This guy that had him hauled up in the air couldn't be confused for anything but ruthless. New player then? Or maybe someone associated with the Cat? She did like to meddle in whatever was going on around the East End. The figure talking dragged him out of his thoughts. "Now I suggest you play nice, before I pump your body full of electricity." He stated blandly." Because I'm not the Bat, and I don't follow his methods of interrogation either. I prefer a more- hands on approach if you will."

The mobster glared in the dark, and he forced out a low "Fuck you." To the vigilante. However, that seemed to be the wrong thing to say. Soon volts of electricity were being passed through his body, his muscles spasming as he screamed. When the electricity stopped, he could feel the figure lean closer.

"Next time I turn the voltage up." The figure snarled before leaning back some. Conversationally, he started talking. "You know what happens to the body during electrocution, Antwan?" He asked in a bored tone- like he was talking about some mundane thing like the weather. "Well, cause of death is usually due to cardiac arrest from electrical currents disrupting the functions of the heart. However, a lot of other nasty things can happen too. Have you ever heard the saying 'there are more blind ex-electricians than dead ones?'" He paused, letting the information sink in. "Well, turns out, electricity in a high enough dosage will burn out your corneas. In fact, prisoners on death row that are put in the electric chair have to have their eyes taped shut. Since their eyes have the possibility of melting through the procedure from the high heat." There was a cruel moment of chuckling. Slow, methodical, intended to intimidate him. Antwan hated to admit, but it was working. "But hey, at least you won't be able to see how ugly your disfigured face is from the electrical burns."

The mobster could help a tremor that shook his frame. The thoughts were vivid from the details that the figure was rattling off. Fuck, was this guy even a hero? Or was he a villain?

No, no… The guy was just trying to intimidate him. That's it. He can still hear faint breathing in the room from the other men, so that means he hadn't killed them. He'd just knocked them unconscious. So, he wouldn't kill Antwan either. He was just trying to interrogate him, coerce him into talking. Antwan swallowed thickly. It might be just a bluff, but he had to admit- the man was a good interrogator. He knew what he was doing, how to instill fear. Maybe he was a Bat after all?

"You know what else happens?" There was a metallic hum that filled the air from the figure who sounded more like a demon than he did a person. Antwan tried to keep his breathing even as the person holding him down continued. "The air will be so hot from the electricity, that it will strip electrons from the air particles. When you breath in, the air will quite literally burn you from the inside out. Say bye-bye to your lungs, and bye-bye to sweet oxygen. If you're lucky, you'll suffocate to death before you'll feel the other nasty side effects of electrocution."

Antwan shook harder underneath the shadowy figure. His heart beating quickly in his chest. Was this how he was going to die? Like this? Terror rolled through his body in waves, making him nauseated.

"Or your final option, you'll end up like a fly in one of those high voltage fly traps. They don't use them often, want to know why? Because as the electricity boils the fly's insides- gas forms inside and rapidly expands- then; it goes **splat**." The figure didn't raise his voice, but it still made Antwan flinch as he talked. "Which isn't very sanitary. So…are we going to do this the sanitary way? Or, are we going to get **_dirty_**?" For show, the figure drew away the metal quarterstaff from Antwan's neck, and made it crackle again with electricity. Making the man shout in fear. "Does that mean you have sins you want to get off your chest now? Maybe something to do with an auction?"

Antwan may be scared of the mob, but right now- he was more scared of the figure in front of him that dropped in the dark and took out five armed guards before he could blink and talked about his potential electrocution in a bored tone like it was just a regular Wednesday. "Alright-Alright. Just- don't hurt me."

"Says the sleazebag who abducted and smuggled innocent women and children from Syria to sell like objects, but sure. Why not. I'm in a good mood. Tell me what you know."

In the end, for his trouble- he wasn't left in a full body cast but it was close with all the broken bones Antwan had. The kid had hurt him just to hurt him, even after he spilled everything the vigilante had wanted to know. The guy went against his promise about not hurting him- no one affiliated with the Bat would do that- lie to his face without remorse. He didn't have the same code of honor as any hero that's ever thrown a wrench in his plans. He wasn't a hero, he was something else. Something dangerous, volatile. He was walking the grey line.

This guy was the true meaning of the word vigilante. The _unhinged, merciless_ form of justice that was similar to how Batman had been during his first year. Before the Bat had gotten his Robin- he hadn't been nearly as nice. The criminals remember it now like a horror story.

Still, now Antwan could kiss his retirement in the Bahamas goodbye. Now the only retirement he was getting would be in a shallow ditch somewhere.

The mob wasn't going to forgive him for this screw up.

* * *

[RED X: YEAR ZERO]

 **||Universe-16, November 29th, 2009, 03:22 CST, Gotham City, Sewers||**

Dropping down into the sewers, Red X only didn't cringe at the smell because he was used to it. His black combat boots sloshing through some of the worst muck of Gotham. He continued for a while, following twists and turns with an ease he knew by heart.

He found what he was looking for with ease, a small out of the way tunnel that was barely noticeable. Boarded up and decrepit, he slid into the lesser known tunnels of what used to be the old Gotham sewer system. Before it was updated in early 90's at least, now the old sewer systems were obsolete and unknown by most, if not all. He'd stumbled upon the old plans a few weeks ago and ever since then, he's been using it as a base of operations of sorts. After-all, who'd think to look for him in the sewers? He went walking for a while more, weaving and winding through the maze of the old sewage before climbing up a metal rung ladder. He lifted a metal grate before slipping up into an area that had long been forgotten by the city. It was a huge room made from concrete, steel and lead. There were metal catwalks that acted as Red X's usual practice areas.

Over the few weeks he's been active, he's been filling the space as his own. Things he's stolen trying to get himself off the ground, computers- gadgets, machinery. Stolen from those that deserved it. The idea of stealing hadn't been appealing- since it reminded him of something the second Red X would do. But he had been forced into a corner really. Though his hideout wasn't entirely filled with stolen things. In fact, a lot of it he'd built himself from scratch based on old schematics of Teen Titan equipment or Wayne Tech.

He sighed, pulling off the ski mask from his face. The outfit he was currently wearing wasn't anything he'd had in mind when he'd decided to become a vigilante again; but he kept reassuring himself that it was only temporary. That didn't stop him from feeling the anticipation though as his goal drew nearer. He couldn't wait until he got his hands on what he really needed. Then, he'd stop needing to steal. Once he was done, he'd finally would have everything he needed to be the vigilante he always planned he'd be.

He looked longingly to the glass case surrounding his suit. A thick black Kevlar material though dense, it was highly flexible and lightweight, which was critical to have for someone like him- he had to steal a shipment from Lex Luthor to get his hands on it. Which had been all kinds of difficult. Red X had sandwiched some Mu Metal in between the layer of Kevlar for some electromagnetic shielding which would help immensely once he got his tech working in the suit. It'd keep his tech safe from EMP blasts. Further modifications were centered around the 'X' on the suit's chest. He's inserted ceramic plates designed to stop low caliber bullet fire into the chest of the suit. Though the suit itself was seamless and had no bulk to it. Essentially when he put on the suit, the goal was to make it as skin tight as possible, to make it flexible but durable. His old golden utility belt was now painted gunmetal grey and modified to house a Xenothium power core. It broke up the darkness of the suit and would sit snugly on his slim hips- whenever he finally put it on at least.

The mask had a pale skull over the upper portion. He'd had the whole thing lead lined just in case he ever met this world's Superman, but also for his own health- he made sure that it was in between a layer of Kevlar so that way it wouldn't directly touch his skin. The white portion of the skull was actually a high durability ceramic that kept his head protected. The mask had the familiar large white eye lenses surrounded by a thick sharp line of dark black, a red 'X' shape was placed on the forehead and one of the strikes of the 'X' was extended so that it crossed through the left eye. The only visible difference to the suit to the first one; was the tattered black and grey cape. Which was shorter than the original Red X suit cape. Red X had originally debated about parting with his old Robin cape to get a new one- but in the end, he couldn't force himself to go through with it. The cape came down to his mid-thigh, the ends frayed and worn. It matched the aesthetic of the original Red X suit well, it's once bright colors flushed out leaving nothing but grey and black.

The reinforced gauntlets were something he was particularly proud of- though they looked the same, there were some different things about the gloves. After he had hacked into the Batcomputer a month ago- he remembered seeing something about a holo-computer ingrained in the doppelganger Robin's gauntlet. Of course, Red X wanted what he didn't have. He hadn't remembered the schematics entirely, so he'd decided to build it from scratch. Using what Cyborg taught him about building computers and machines. The entire time he had been building the mini-computer had been a struggle. He'd be stuck in his memories of his best friend, before remembering that he was gone- and he was alone. In any case, now his gauntlets were equipped with a red holographic computer, that was even connected to his own network.

There was more than met the eye to the suit. Not counting the makeshift circulatory system that laid hidden underneath; made to push Xenothium through the suit and power his Red X abilities. Now he also had built in night vision, short distance sonar, air filtration, and numerous gadgets he'd used as Red X before. Right now, all of it useless without its core component to power it- but soon enough, it would be fully powered.

He unclasped his bullet-resistant vest and tossed it on the metal desk of his terminal. Everything in his base was militaristic and utilitarian in nature. He only had a sparse cot in one corner which was hardly used. When the cot was used it was just, so he had somewhere to sit while wrapping his injuries. There was an area for his tools, and a small table where his MRE's and water bottles were.

He did have an apartment, though he spent most of his time either here in his hideout or on the streets. Stealing from criminals or beating them. Most of the time both. Much like he did with Antwan. Thievery gave Red X a bad after taste in his mouth, a familiar ache he couldn't get rid of. It disgusted him, he wanted to be on the side of justice. Though he makes sure he only steals from those that deserve it. Didn't make him feel less guilty for breaking his own code of honor, but he did it anyways.

Whenever he stole, he always heard the little whisper of that old voice in the back of his mind. Telling him; that evil wasn't black and white like everyone always wanted to assume. Red X thought that evil was just black and white once, but ever since he woke up alone and battered- it lost it's meaning. He learned that there were more shades of grey, and he used that to his advantage. His naivety died with his friends.

Red dropped his suitcase that was filled with the mobsters' cash from the poker game from earlier- a crisp one hundred fifty grand wasn't anything to scoff at. Antwan Perelli was a big name in Gotham's mob, and when X caught wind that he was going to be selling 'merchandise' at a trafficking ring auction, he had tracked down the people the mob kidnapped and saved them from the facility they were held (actually a glorified cargo container with people cramped in its metal walls, being pressed flush shoulder to shoulder) before finding the man himself. He went overboard with his 'lesson' he admits- he feels guilt bubbling in his gut at the thought. He'd like to think he had done good and gotten someone dangerous off the streets while getting the information he needed, but he knew that it was a moment of being emotionally compromised during a mission, which he couldn't allow to happen. He just knew when he watched Antwan begging not to be hurt, that his mind flashed back to the women and children huddled and sobbing in that shipping container. He hated people that preyed on refugees. Which is what those women and children were, refugees from Syria. Likely conned into believing they'd get American citizenship if they agreed to what Antwan wanted.

They never pictured they'd be sold like slaves.

He sat as his computer, running a hand through his dark black hair. He used to put gel in it, but after a while it lost his novelty and now he just leaves it swept down. His gloves made a scratching noise against his scalp, and he tugged at the top some to feel the pull of it to wake him up. He was exhausted. His eyelids threatening to droop over his blue irises. He hadn't bothered to change his appearance much, he was too busy with Red X jobs that he hadn't managed. He didn't want to look too similar to the Robin of this universe. They didn't look much alike, but still- he didn't want to be found out. In any case, he'd settled that for now he wouldn't bother- he looked similar to Robin, but different enough that someone wouldn't look too closely. As long as it wasn't Batman or the duplicate of himself at least.

Red X more closely took after his mother from his world, with the slimmer more delicate features. Including his height. It always used to bother him when people mentioned how short he was. Needless to say- he was a bit sour when he found out that his thirteen-year old counterpart who was two years his minor; turned out to be one inch taller than him. That had been a blow to his pride. It reminded him of when Cyborg taunted him about his height before, and the thoughts made his stomach churn.

Red X didn't realize how much he'd miss the antics of his friends, even those that once used to annoy him in the past. He'd let Cyborg mock his height all he wanted, if he just got a few more minutes with his best friend. He would let Starfire drag him around by his arm in a too tight grip because she was too excited to remember he was human, and he bruised when gripped by superhuman strength. He'd suffer through Beastboy's gloating about being better at playing videogames. He wouldn't even mind if Raven had used that _look_ on him that made him wither, the one that conveyed she knew more about Robin than she let on. It didn't matter, he just wanted them back.

For a moment he wasn't Red X, he wasn't Dick Grayson- he was Robin. Broken and lonely. Wishing for things to happen that would never happen. Gritting his teeth hard enough that his jaw ached, he forced himself out of his memories. He'd Red X now. Nothing more.

He's not Robin.

He's not Dick Grayson.

Only Red X.

Red X resisted the urge to slump in his chair, he instead rolled closer to his set of monitors. Six simultaneous monitors might distract anyone else, but he wasn't anyone else. He kept track of information easily as he glanced at news reports on the other screens, on one of the other monitors he started clacking up a mission report. Mostly so he can look back on it later. It reminded him faintly of an old life, his past with the Titans. Whenever he tried to think of the memories, it gave him a sort of heartache he wonders will ever lessen or dull with time. It was often too much to bear, which made him push the thoughts away as soon as they rolled around.

He was afraid he'd forget them. His mind lately has been clouded with so much grief that he'd been forgetting things- and it's killing him inside. This morning he woke up to realize he couldn't remember the sound of Starfire's voice. He's terrified he's losing his mind. That he's loosing **them**.

That's why whenever he goes out now, he imprints the new version of the familiar city in the only version of memory he knows won't fail him. Muscle memory. Flipping in the air, kicking someone in the jaw, disarming a weapon from his opponent- they were things he'd never forget. Now he wouldn't forget Gotham either. Because he's walked, jumped, and flipped across every gouge that marred her surface. He's scoured her secrets and found them all. He's found every handhold, sat atop every vantage point, and hooked his grapple to each and every gargoyle.

He wasn't Robin anymore. He wasn't leader of the Titans.

It was funny how many times he had to remind himself of that fact.

He was Red X now. That was his true identity, much like Bruce Wayne is actually an alias for Batman; rather than the opposite being true. When the need arises though- he pretended to be someone else. Dean Crosse was more of an alias than Red X, but it was also his to use now. He'd made the identity in order to buy his apartment. The name was something he had chosen on a spur of the moment. He didn't want a name that meant anything to him, he didn't want a name that had emotional significance. He just wanted to be forgettable. According to the files he had forged, Dean was a sixteen-year-old orphan that was emancipated in the eyes of the law, the records he had forged said that he worked and lived meagerly. Though that couldn't be farther from the truth.

He stripped his gauntlets with a small weary sigh. He had enough money now saved up from his 'extracurricular activities'. He had what he needed for the moment. Now he could slow down and focus on finding what he needed. Focus is something he needed.

The auction would be a good place to start.

Red X didn't happen upon Antwan by chance. No. He had started by searching for this world's Professor Chang. Which had been his world's leading expert in Xenothium. Evil, but still an expert. He'd found that Chang did exist, much to Red X's (dis)pleasure. This version of Chang though, had apparently been tied in some very illegal technological experimentation- and was on Asia's most wanted list. He'd fled his country- but that was the last thing that government and Justice League sources knew on the matter.

Finding the trail of Chang had left had been like finding a needle in a haystack. Red X had to admit the man was thorough….but X was taught by his world's greatest detective. He wasn't a slouch. He'd picked up on the clues and had interrogated his way up the food chain. Ultimately it led him back to the city he'd started in. Gotham. If he'd been more inclined to believe in destiny, Red X might have thought that it was fate that kept him coming back to Gotham. Though obviously, it was nothing more than a mere coincidence.

Red X searched around continuously in the city, being careful to keep a low profile and far away from the Bat though; of course.

Last he'd heard, Chang was getting ready to attend a black-market auction somewhere in Gotham. That's when he'd plucked up someone from Antwan's operation, and had finally found the connection he needed.

The auction was going to be in the Uptown of Gotham in a few days' time. The location was an old warehouse near the docks. Apparently from what Antwan said, it was going to be big buyers. People like Black Mask and Simon Stagg were going to be there.

Given that the Joker had just escaped from Arkham three days ago, he imagined that Batman was too busy tearing up the city looking for the clown to bother with the auction. So, it looked like he could go without the risk of being caught. Which didn't mean he wouldn't be careful though.

A few days, and he finally might stop having to wear the awful loadout he'd been wearing. After all; ski-mask, grey and white camo fatigues, a black sweater, a bullet proof vest, and combat boots doesn't really scream 'superhero'. It screams more 'bank robber' than anything.

He chuckled bitterly, and with one more wistful look at his suit- he started planning for the auction.

* * *

[RED X: YEAR ZERO]

 **||Universe-16, December 2nd, 2009, 05:49 CST Location: Gotham City, Uptown||**

Red X had pulled up his ski-mask and was idly making his way through breakfast. His legs dangled over the edge of the building he was on- it was a three-story building that used to be a fishery before it was shut down years ago. According to what information he'd pulled up on the building when looking for the schematics of it, in the early year of 2000, apparently; the mercury content was too high in the fish and caused the FDA to shut it down. Like most abandoned buildings in Gotham, the rot of disuse had seeped into the building's foundation- and was likely already not built to code and was likely to fall in at any moment. Still, it was the perfect vantage point to spy on the warehouse, distance wise- and as well for the usage of cover. The old metal vents jutting out of the flat top roof were something he could dive behind if needed. Also; since he studied the blue-prints of the building- he knew of every escape route that the building provided. In case of an emergency.

The cool wind smelled like murky saltwater from being so close to the docks. The smog was thicker here than in most areas of Gotham, given that it was so close to the industrial zone. The smell didn't bother him though, in fact- part of him thought it smelled like home. Though a bitter part reminded himself mentally that this wasn't his home. Jump City had been his home. His friends had made it a home. This wasn't even his world.

He had no home here.

He thought back to his old mentor. Once upon a time, Bruce and Alfred had made the manor feel like home…but then Bruce had tried to take away the only thing he'd had left of his mother. Robin was what she used to call him, he didn't want it taken from him. It had to be **his** choice not to be Robin anymore. Back then, he hadn't been ready to give it up. When Batman wouldn't listen, he'd decided to strike out on his own.

He thought of the things they had yelled at each other that night. The words he could never take back. The apologies that were left unsaid.

Bitterly, he shook his head slightly to dislodge his train of thought before focusing back on his meal. It's not like he could take it back now. He was gone. **Everyone** from his world was gone….but he couldn't afford to think about it now. He couldn't let the grief cloud him. He needed focus.

He knew from experience that stakeouts often took a lot longer than planned, so he'd come prepared with food. His spoon scraped against the bottom of the can of his pinto beans. After eating the last spoonful, he set the can aside. X took a sip out of his thermos- the coffee still hot on his tongue; then cranked up the volume on his receiver. Yesterday he'd been thinking two steps ahead. He'd slipped bugs into the warehouse. Which is currently what he was listening to now. Nothing interesting was being said at the moment though, all he could hear were some small-time mobsters muttering to themselves about Joker's recent escape. It seemed that the clown prince of crime in this world also had quite the reputation.

X flipped through the feeds, pulling his mask down- his eyes flickered back towards the outside of the building. Occasionally a car had pulled up, but so far, no big names had made it to the scene yet.

If that mobster had given him false information; then Red X was going to go the hospital that mobster was holed up in- and he'd give him some 'crash course' education in physics. Mostly the physics of getting punched in the face.

X's eyes lifted as another car arrived. Rolling onto his stomach to lay on the roof, he settled his elbows underneath him and pulled out his binoculars from his belt. Looking through them, his eyes narrowed when he saw a frail old man being helped out of the car by a young woman with dark short bobbed hair. Well, that matched the version of this world's Chang that he had read up on. Who was the woman though?

It seems that this Chang had aged even more ungracefully than his counterpart, which X wasn't even sure was possible.

The man didn't seem to have any body guards, which proved to be odd. Maybe the woman was his body guard then?

Silently X watched while the man walked inside the building. He let out a soft sigh before settling in. He was going be here for a while…

He'd already decided not to get the Xenothium like he did last time in his own world. Last time, he'd coerced his world's Chang to give him access to Xenothium. Red X had already resorted to stealing; even if it was from criminals. He didn't need to add 'harassing the elderly' onto his list of crimes too. So, he'd decided for a subtler way about this.

He was going to tail Chang after he left the auction. Chang was most likely still continuing his 'illegal experimentation'. So, he had to have a facility of some sort nearby. Or at least in Gotham. If he knew anything about Xenothium, he had to have it stored somewhere in his facility.

In any case, he'd be able to ride his new X-Cycle and take it out for a little test run. He'd built it after the rendition of his old R-Cycle, with some major differences in aesthetics. The vehicle was sharper looking and was matte black instead of the shiny red paint that he used to have coated over his old bike. A black piece of glass curved up as a windbreaker. He'd use it to duck behind when he'd ride on high speed chases, the glass was bullet resistant too- so hopefully he'd avoid getting shot in the head that way. A skull symbol sans the lower jaw sat on the front lower portion. On the rims of his tires (which were a dark grey in color), sat the standard 'X' shaped design. The seat was black leather and dipped smoothly in the center like a saddle. Overall, the body of the bike closely resembled his old R-Cycle, being thick but also sleek at the same time.

He had tech ingrained into almost every part of his bike. From the onboard computer in the dash to the rocket stabilizers on either side of the bike. He built in a weapons system, auto drive functions, and more.

When it seemed no one else would come to the auction, he left the rooftop for only a moment to stick several bugs and trackers onto Chang's car. Just in case he lost him while trailing him. It wasn't likely, but it was good to be cautious.

Once he'd gotten back to his spot, he focused on the start of the auction and sighed to himself.

It was the start of a long day.

* * *

Hours later, after the auction- Chang was on the move. So was Red X. He glanced down at the tracker location from his computer in the dash of his bike. In his ear he was listening to the bug planted in Chang's limousine. Chang and the woman were completely quiet.

Red X ducked and weaved between alleys where his bike could fit, he never kept his eyes off Chang's ride for long. Though he wanted to make sure they didn't realize they were being followed. He was just pulling out of an alleyway and back onto the highway after the limousine, when the woman spoke. Mandarin, luckily Red X was fluent in Mandarin.

" ** _You should have sold it father._** " The woman grumbled. Red X couldn't see her but hearing her tone- he could easily imagine the look on her face. Red X narrowed his eyes behind his ski-mask and listened intently.

" **Why Bao? I've almost got it finished.** **I've already told you, I'm not selling an unfinished product.** " Chang's voice came out in fluid Mandarin as well. His voice was the same. It made Red X clench his jaw as memories tried to push to the forefront of his mind.

There was a shuffle of fabric against leather. The woman's voice came out more quietly. " **You heard Luthor's messenger he sent, he's willing to compensate you an enormous amount. I know you aren't finished with the project, but I don't think you ever will be. This project is killing you father.** "

The man's voice was harsh. " **I can't! This is my life's work. As of right now, I can't leave it the way it is. It's too unstable. This isn't just making a synthetic material- this is pure raw energy. Little jewel, you know I can't stop. Not yet.** " The man was cut off by a rattling cough.

The woman sounded sad. As she whispered quietly. " **I know father. I know.** "

They were quiet for the duration of the ride, and Red X mulled over what he had heard. Synthetic material- raw energy; that sounded exactly like the Xenothium from his world. Was it the same thing?

After a while on the highway, Red X followed them to the city limits- they pulled off into a richer neighborhood on the outskirts. X pulled off to the side of the road and continued on foot, following the tracker the rest of the way to its location. Where it was blinking and not moved.

Crouching in the shadows, Red X looked at what he was up against- and frowned. It was a fortress designed to blend in the neighboring manors; but Red X could tell immediately that the security was high. There was a long driveway that led to an iron gate. Electrified and with sensors from what X could see from a glance. There were motion capture cameras, and what looked like mercenaries surrounding the house. The house itself was glamorous and with a modern design- but just from the outside- he could already assume it was heavily fortified.

The windows of the manor were obviously fortified glass, so there was no getting in that way. The door also seemed to have some sort of fingerprint scanner in order to get in the doors.

His eyes narrowed.

This was going to be difficult.

* * *

[RED X: YEAR ZERO]

 **||Universe-16, December 15th, 2009, 15:52 CST Location: Gotham City, Chang's Manor||**

It's been almost a week. Red X has been scouting the place during every moment he could. He hadn't slept a solid hour this week, and he wouldn't until he finally had what he needed.

When he had the Xenothium at last and finally put his suit on- then he'd rest easy. Until then, he just needed to grit his teeth and focus on the mission. No matter what.

He'd learned a lot over the course of the week.

Chang was hiding it, but X had found in a concealed medical record under one of the man's aliases that he had the starting phases of Alzheimer's. That's probably why within the last week, he's been hiring more and more people. All with scientific backgrounds.

They'd come during the night and they would go to the lower levels of the manor- past the range of what he could detect with the bugs he'd planted. Red X was convinced there were more levels of the manor that were likely protected by electrical interference.

Chang was trying to finish his life's work…before he forgot about it.

The thought would have made Red X pity him, if it wasn't illegal and highly dangerous. The irony wasn't lost on him- he needed it, and Chang wanted nothing more than to perfect it.

He'd hacked into one of the scientist's laptop, he'd followed them into a coffee shop. Dressed in nothing but civvies, X had pretended to be a local. X _might_ have put laxatives in the scientist's coffee, so that they would leave their computer unattended as they ran into the bathroom. When Chang's lackey staggered off to the bathroom holding their stomach, he'd hooked in his USB and downloaded everything on to it.

He cracked the encryption at his base and had read over every piece of information thrice. Most of it was social media. The person had a **lot** of pictures of their cats. However; in the darker corners of the computer, he'd found a hidden file. Chang had given access to the files of his mystery experiment.

It **was** Xenothium.

Except, the synthetic material was flawed. This world's Chang didn't know how to fix it, but X did. He'd studied the substance enough in his world to know what it was supposed to look like. This Xenothium had a missing link in its atomic structure. This made the substance even more unstable than its otherworld counterpart. X would be able to fix it, if he got his hands on the actual substance at least.

He'd completed Chang's life work, he knew how to solve the problem that Chang had been hunting down, spending millions in hiring world class scientists trying to solve.

This time, the pity was harder to squash down.

There were differences in this world though, the Xenothium was different. Chang had made an Xenothium substance that would recharge after usage.

Normal Xenothium from his universe expended power through the act of decay, but this version of it- it seemingly built itself back from the ground up; even after being completely depleted. Chang called it an 'Xenothium Core'. It was wildly unstable, since Chang hadn't perfected the formula for the Xenothium yet- but Red X could. He **needed** that core. If he did, he would be able to have a lasting supply of power for his suit. He wouldn't have to be like the old Red X; and continuously steal more and more vials of the dangerous substance. Instead, he could get it and never have to steal again. The thought was a relief.

Red X imagined that he didn't even need to steal the core. Because- he had a plan.

Kind of an idiotic plan- but he was hoping it would work.

* * *

When he infiltrated Chang's manor, he didn't sneak into the lower levels of the manor like the wanted to; he didn't take the Xenothium through deception. Instead, he stood in Chang's office and waited for the man to come in like he did every day at this time.

He was still wearing what he liked to call his 'bank robber' outfit. Though this time, he had contacts covering the color of his eyes under his ski-mask. This would be the first time he wouldn't have the dark to shroud him, he didn't want to be remembered by the color of his eyes; which were the only things visible of his face. All of this was assuming that this all went south.

Footsteps walked down the hall, closer to the room, and he could hear talking. It was Chang, and his daughter Bao. He could tell from their voices. Bao was angry as usual. Well, not angry. She was hurt, and afraid. Though she disguised those feelings as aggression. X had noticed the dynamic between the two early on, she was trying to take care of him in his final stage of life- but he wouldn't let her. He was too caught up in his work. She was afraid to lose him. He was to blind to see that he was killing himself with his work. It reminded him a lot of how he and Bruce used to be. Which hurt to think about. Maybe he can make it better for them.

When the door opened, there was a gasp of surprise and Bao had her gun raised to X's head. They were only about five feet away from each other, Red X wouldn't have much time to dodge if she pulled the trigger. However, despite this, Red X didn't flinch. It wasn't the first time he'd looked at the barrel of a gun. Chang narrowed his eyes, and X just lifted his hands palms outward slowly in a show that he meant no harm. She twitched violently but didn't pull the trigger. Her eyes flashing to her father as if pleading to him to tell her what to do.

" ** _Father, should I shoot him?_** " The woman asked in Mandarin. She assumed that X didn't know how to speak or understand it. He pursed his lips slightly before glancing at Chang in an unimpressed manner.

In fluent Mandarin, X replied smoothly. " ** _You should hear what I have to say first. I can't tell you the secret to your life's work if you have your daughter shoot me in the head._** " Chang's shoulders stiffened, and his cane tapped against the floor. Bao looked between them, her eyes showing a mix of emotions that Red X didn't feel like trying to untangle.

Red X spoke again. This time in English. "I know you have your body guards on the way. You pressed the silent alarm in your cane."

"What do you want?" Chang snarled. "How do you-"

"Know about your little project?" X shrugged in a nonchalant manner as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against Chang's desk. He didn't miss the way that Bao flinched, and her grip on the gun became a tight white-knuckled one. Bao's never killed anyone- he can tell by the tremble in her hands. How the snarl on her face was more out of fear than anger. "I know a lot more than just that. In fact- I know how to get your Xenothium core to work. All the money you've expended in this last year tells me you really just want to find the secret to it that's been haunting you. Well; I know it. I wanted to make a deal….if you call off your guards."

Chang took in a startled breath, his frail body suddenly looking very weak. "You know? Prove it."

"No. Not until you've called off your guards and have met my terms."

The old man didn't look angry. There was just a sort of reluctant acceptance that settled into his frame. He pushed down his daughter's hand that held the weapon. "Call them off."

"Father?" She asked, eyes wide. He nodded once in stiff affirmation. Relief settled into her shoulders when she holstered her weapon, and she spoke into Mandarin through the concealed earpiece she was wearing.

"What are you going to do with it?" Chang suddenly asked. Red X raised an eyebrow behind the ski-mask. For a moment he wondered if the expression was lost on the elder, but it seemingly hadn't. As the older man explained further. "People have come to me before boy. Promising to help me figure out the core. In return; they either want to get paid for their efforts; or they want the finished product. I don't care at this point- I'm far to old to ever make use of it. I have enough money, I don't want to capitalize on it. I just want this solved. If not; I'll never be able to die easy."

Red X nodded stiffly in understanding. For a moment, he didn't see his world's Chang when he looked at this one. He only saw the shadow of a man who wanted nothing more than to complete a phase of his life. To shut a door, he had never meant to open. It was much similar to his own experiences with Slade. The obsession; the hatred and passion for wanting to figure out the puzzle. "I'm going to do what I've always done. Help people." He said it honestly. Chang looked into his eyes. The man was trying to figure out if he was lying. Trying to plummet into the depths of his soul. Red X knew for a fact that if he didn't like what he found, then he'd likely have to find an escape route. Thankfully, the man smiled.

"You aren't the first to say that….but you are the first to say it honestly." He beckoned Red X over to the sitting area of the office. "My joints are not what they used to be, boy. If we are going to negotiate further, I need to rest my bones. Come; sit."

It turned out, Chang wasn't at all like his counterpart.

Red X left a man behind an old man who finally could rest easy.

Now Red X could rest easy too; because he finally had what he came for.

* * *

 **||Universe-16, January 1st, 2010, 01:00 CST Location: Gotham City, X's Sewer Base||**

After months of planning, it was all finally happening. After finishing touches on the suit, it was time.

Usually there was the dull roaring of his memories in the background. Memories of his friends, his enemies, his world.

His grief, rage, fear all usually bunched into a knot in his chest that felt like thorns wrapping around his heart. It made him feel cold; like he was bleeding out- but the bleeding never stopped. He just kept bleeding and bleeding. He couldn't staunch the flow, and that flow threatened to carry him away. It threatened to break him in ways Slade's mind games never could.

Now as he slipped his belt on his hips; there was nothing. Just the familiar feel of Kevlar and metal. The gloves; the boots. He clasped the cape onto his shoulders. Finally, he looked into the eyes of the mask. He didn't feel taunted by the old ghost that used to wear this mask. He only felt the same relief as he tugged it over his face. Tugging the corners of it into the body suit, the neck seam disappearing into solid black.

With a small smirk behind his mask, he pushed in the Xenothium core into his belt. The steam hissed outwards as the core sunk into its place and the locks clicked in.

[RED X: YEAR ONE]

* * *

 **A/N: Hey guys! I hoped you enjoyed this chapter. This took forever to write. I have been mulling on how to continue after my first chapter, and I didn't want to post the story until I got this one finished. So I've been pushing myself. Originally; there was going to be more fighting in this chapter. At the end, Red X was going to just steal the Xenothium Core and have an epic fight against Bao...but then my brain turned Chang from the evil scientist- into a character that was in some ways similar to Red X. He just got caught up in something he originally wanted nothing to do with, once it proved a challenge- he became obsessed with finding an answer. When X realized this, he knew he could talk him down- and in a way; give Chang some peace. He did the thing a hero would do. I believe that was a much better choice than Red X just stealing the core, after-all; he's already stolen from mobsters. He's stretched his morals far enough. If given the choice not to steal, he was going to take it.**

 **Why I made him steal in the first place: Before you say "Hey you're stupid, this doesn't match his character at all. Even if he is stealing from villains; Robin wouldn't do that." hear me out. Have you ever had something so life changing happen to you, that it completely rocked your thought process? Have you been so desperate you felt like you were backed into a corner you had to claw your way out of? This is Red X right now. He just lost his friends, his identity, and his whole world. We've never seen Robin in the series start from the very bottom; because he had his identity already in the TT show. Despite leaving Batman; he never had to actually give anything up. Now, he was forced to give his identity up willingly. He has no allies, and he's going to have to do things he's not proud of. He doesn't like it; he's still the same hero he's always been. He hates the fact he's been pushed to do something so drastic. He's still Robin; even when he's Red X. Plus; I loved the idea of Robin begrudgingly becoming like the second Red X in some ways; like figuring out that the world isn't black and white.**

 **(Also a note on the interrogation part; Robin was taught by Batman to be a master interrogator. We see it in the show some; he can be a scary boi when he wants to be.)**

 **Anyways; enough of me blabbering. I hope you enjoyed this! If you did; drop a review. If you didn't? Drop a review.**


	3. Chapter Three: Debut

[RED X: YEAR ONE]

 **||Universe-16, January 1st, 2010, 01:44 CST Location: Gotham City, Otisburg District||**

Red X silently moved across the buildings, as fluid as liquid- though a solid presence. He didn't rely on his now newly functional teleportation belt at all to get around the urban landscape- and instead let his body fall into a natural sort of limbo he had been trained into as he gracefully moved between buildings with practiced ease. He's needed this for a long time. The rush of moving from building to building. He was in a better place now, it feels like a part of him has slipped into where it was supposed to be. A puzzle piece in its perfect spot. Maybe he wouldn't be whole again, missing key components like his friends- however it was still enough to see the bigger picture. He took a deep breath from the air as he leaped, he glided for some distance before he used his grapple to hook onto the lip of a building and swing himself onto the roof of another.

It was like flying and falling all at once, incredible and terrifying.

It's what he always loved ever since he was a young circus boy, _flight_.

It's been too long since he's simply taken in the scope of the city…. a city; any city. The sheer size of how everything was incredibly large compared to him. He needed the reminder that this world wasn't just a stand-in for his old one. It wasn't a cheap cardboard cutout. This world was a living breathing thing, something that had existed before he had. Something that would hopefully continue exist after he died.

He would make sure that it would.

He used all his pent-up energy, the anticipation- the anger, the restlessness, he flushed it out of his system as he put every ounce of flourish he could into each flip, like he was trying to impress the crowd of the circus all over again. He moved with a practiced precision and used it to expend all of his feelings. Now he felt like a blank canvas, and tonight- his actions would paint the first stroke.

He patrolled the areas he knew that Batman wouldn't be near. He had tapped into the bat network earlier but only to really get a grasp on where the dark knight and Robin would be, so he could preferably; avoid them. He'd also put a system on his gauntlet computer that alerted him when the bat and bird's signals were within a two-mile range of his own location.

It was so odd calling someone else his name. The name his mother made for him. Though, this Robin seemed to have the same experiences he had that had made him don that mantle in the first place. That meant that this- other him deserved the mantle as much as he had.

Besides, Red X was the intruder on this world.

Not him.

Those thoughts still didn't make the bitterness go away entirely though.

The caped vigilante fell forward into a handspring, propelling him off of the warehouse roof and feet first onto another. His tattered cape flared behind him silently like a shadow. The smell of Gotham wasn't filtered through the mask, and instead the lingering smell of carbon lingered on the back of his teeth like a bad aftertaste.

He had stopped a few petty crimes near Park Row, mostly muggings and attempted car jackings. Though after his wrist mounted computer notified him of the bat and bird were only two miles from his location, he had silently slunk away to find a new plot of land in Gotham to look over while the caped crusader did the same. He hadn't wanted to meet the other vigilantes yet, not if he could help it.

If the Batman of this world was anything like his back home, then as soon as Batman found out about him- he'd obsessively try to find out everything about him. Then once he found out all he wanted to know, he'd probably lock him in a padded cell or something equally paranoid.

Red X wasn't going to let that happen. He couldn't let that happen. He had secrets he needed to keep. He couldn't let the world's greatest detective catch wind of him, not just yet.

Maybe it wasn't smart to stage his debut in Gotham, given his previous train of thought (not to mention how territorial the bat is), but he has his reasons.

He may not believe in fate, but he couldn't deny that there was an irresistible pull to Gotham. In this world; if he was going to start anywhere, he needed to start here. He didn't know why he just…had to. Gotham is where Robin was born, so Gotham would be where Red X was born too.

So now on the edges of the Otisburg District- he was looking for anything to catch his eye. Illegal transport and Gotham Crime Family turf wars were at the top of his list. Though a drug bust or something similar wouldn't be adverse either. Red X needed something easy, something to get his feet wet with as he started to learn how to work by himself again. It's been…. a long time since he's been completely on his own, and it wasn't for very long. Because then he had met his team. Occasionally he'd look back, expecting Starfire to be flying beside him with a smile on her face, Raven also following as a dark shadow, or Beastboy to be switching animal forms trying to keep up with him, while below them Cyborg drove the T-Car.

Then he had to remember all over again that they were gone.

The memories and the pain are washed away by the chill of the night, the breeze that flutters his tattered cape pulled him from the daze he had fallen into. His body had moved on autopilot during that time and had covered a good half mile on the rooftops as he had been crowded by his own thoughts. Falling out of the memories, he allows himself to focus again at the matter at hand. Landing in a crouch atop a gargoyle, he pressed a button to activate the zoom function on the lenses of his mask (yet another improvement upon the old suit.) He looked over the area and sighed to himself. The first night he decided to get back into the thick of things was the only night that Gotham was completely quiet. It may not be the same city he was used to, but this Gotham had one major thing in common with the old one. Crime. Yet there was a distinct lack of it tonight, which could be very good, or very bad.

A shadow flickering out of an alleyway caught his attention, assuming it was an alley cat or something of the sorts- he leisurely turned his head only to see what looked like a stumbling drunk staggering out of the mouth of the alley. Feeling his skin crawl with a feeling he couldn't shake, he decided to follow anyways. Despite his initial thoughts that it was just another drunk. He couldn't help but feel that something was off- and in the field you learn to trust your instinct. Even if it did turn out to be a drunk, he could make sure they weren't going to do something stupid- like try to drive while inebriated.

The staggering person seemed to be walking in a singular direction as if it was being beckoned. It knocked over garbage cans and didn't bother to go around obstacles. It was as if it was a mindless toy being pulled along by a string. Red X hopped along rooftops while keeping a close eye on the person he was following. He mentally thought of the map he had analyzed earlier of this world's Gotham, he made a mental list of all potential places that the person could be staggering towards- but nothing prominent came to mind. Looking back down again, the figure suddenly changed directions, veering into traffic.

Okay, maybe it was just a drunk, a really dumb drunk.

Pressing the button on his belt, he felt everything around him distort- in a blink of an eye, he was beside the person. Wrapping an arm around their middle, he shot off his grapple line and launched them out of the way of a car just in the nick of time. Setting the person down in the mouth of the nearby alley- Red X placed his grapple back on his utility belt. His head was still throbbing from using his teleportation. He didn't understand how the second Red X teleported so often without getting sick. "Are you o-" Whatever he was going to say died in his throat as his eyes widened behind his mask. "What the-"His voice modulator couldn't convey emotion very well with the mechanical undertone, but there was definitely a huge amount of shock flooding through him at the moment.

The person- if it could even be called that- was covered in bloody clothing, and a doll mask seemed to be surgically implanted onto their face. The thing didn't even look at him- as it was suddenly moving again in the direction it had been going. Shaking himself out of his shock, Red X frowned. Something was going on, but he didn't know what- but he was going to find out. Grappling up onto a building, he began pursuit again.

This time he followed closer, jumping over gaps in buildings and grappling to different vantage points to keep pace. His mask was working on getting the vital signs from the thing. Either his tech was already malfunctioning, or this thing wasn't human. Its heartbeat was slow- very slow. Its temperature was low enough that for a normal human they'd be taken to the hospital for hypothermia. However, the creature just ambled along without a care in the world. As if it didn't feel anything.

Checking his mental map of New-Gotham yet again, he realized they were getting close to an abandoned pharmaceutical factory. Red X had actually been planning on scoping it out later for a potential hideout. The thing shambled around to the back of the building, where it seemed the fence was broken. Though when Red X went to follow, it had disappeared.

There was most likely a way inside that the creature knew about, but for Red X- he'd rather go in through a window. Less chance of security that way. Shooting his grapple he zipped up to a small window on the third floor, he checked for any sign of alarms or traps. Seeing none, he quickly placed his hand on the pane- the X on his hand glowed red, and the window pane started to melt. It took a bit longer, but was silent- whereas shattering glass was not. With each pulse of red light, the pane melted further and further until there was an 'X' shaped hole large enough for him to slide through.

As he crept in, he brought a finger up to his temple to turn on night vision. Seeing no one down the hall, he swept through the area like a shadow, combing over every square inch for that thing from earlier.

A flickering florescent light at the end of the hallway did little to illuminate the area around it. There wasn't much in the hallway, it was mostly a blank space. The interior walls were sagging with water damage, and mold covered every corner and crevice. 'Living in the sewers might actually be cleaner than living in here. That's just sad.' Red X mused internally.

Coming to room at the end of the hall, it had a single square window- from that widow was a flood of light. Turning off his night vision, he crept to the window to look inside.

It was empty.

Cautiously, he opened the door slowly. Wincing when it creaked. Looking around, the room looked like an operating room. The light was coming from big metal lamps with circular metal around it to focus the light on the operating table. The operating table was ripped and taped in some places- with stains that he had a sinking feeling about. Below his feet there was white tiles that were broken and chipped, analyzing further he noticed blood in the crevices between tiles. Taking a swab for evidence, he then placed it in his utility belt before he further looked around.

There was a second door at the far end of the room, though as he got closer- a rancid smell became noticeable upon the air. He pushed the door open, and there was a gruesome scene. Bodies were stacked upon each other- it looked like they were surgically mutilated. The faces had similar masks as to what the thing he followed earlier.

Backing out of the room, he closed the door as if he had never been inside. Well- it looks like he was on the trail of a serial murderer. Hearing a noise, he quickly hopped atop a cluster of lockers lining the side of one wall. He covered the Red X on his chest with his cape to blend in with the shadows.

"Oh Mr. Toad, did you leave this door open? Silly you. In any case, it's time to make this new project beautiful."

A young boy was being dragged along behind a man with a pig mask. The boy was being held by two people similar to the one he followed to get here. Their masks did nothing to hide their empty eyes, while the boy's shone with terror. "Please- Please no! Please don't do this."

"Don't you want to be beautiful like my Dollotrons?" So, that's what the creepy things were called. The man in the pig mask picked up a syringe off of the metal surgical table. "Now hold still you ugly little thing. Professor Pyg will fix you."

Not able to stand by any longer, Red X threw a shuriken, shattering the glass vial. He leapt from his spot to the floor so that 'Professor Pyg' would see him. "Pretty sure the kid said no, besides…that needle couldn't possibly have been clean."

Throwing down some smoke bombs, red smoke filled the room. Pyg wheezed and coughed. "Dollotrons- get him! I'll make him beautiful too!"

Disoriented by the smoke, Red X was able to sneak up behind the two Dollotrons and hit them on the back of their heads with his bo-staff. As the smoke dissipated, Red X quickly kicked a wheeled chair into Pyg's gut before hauling up the kid by the arm. "Move!" He barked, the kid didn't have to be told twice. He ran out the door, though when they hit the hallway more Dollotrons blocked their escape.

"Who the heck are you!?" The kid asked. Red X glanced back before twirling the bo-staff in his hands.

"Red X. Now listen to me closely. I'll keep them off of you, you just avoid getting grabbed. We're going to head for the stairwell. I clear a path, you escape. Got it?" The boy gave a shaky nod.

Red X then launched into combat, he worked on keeping a safe perimeter around the kid. Though every time his bo-staff came down on a Dollotron it seemed like they just got back up. Backflipping over two Dollotrons, he quickly changed tactics and used his adhesive X to stick them both to the nearby wall. They struggled, but for the moment they were contained.

Dodging a knife from being jammed into his side, he lashed out in a kick before following with a rapid flurry of strikes from his staff. The Dollotron staggered back, and once it got close to the wall, he used the same tactic of adhesive to trap it. "Go, stairwell- now!" The kid complied and took the steps two at a time. Red X followed behind to make sure that he escaped safely- when the kid was out of the stairwell, he threw a few explosives to block off the area. That should by them some time. Once they got into the first-floor entrance, the boy tugged onto the doors only to not have them budge an inch.

Gently nudging the boy aside, he activated the X blade and activated the rotating feature to turn it into a saw. He sliced through the lock on the door and kicked it open. "Run, don't look back. Get to the nearest place and alert the authorities. Got it?"

"What about you?" The kid asked.

Red X smirked behind his mask. "Finishing what I started. Before you go, is there anyone else here that needs rescuing?"

"He keeps them down below in the basement. There were a couple of 'em." Nodding, X looked up when he heard a crash. Seeing Dollotrons crawling through the rubble he'd collapsed behind them on the stairwell, he urged the boy to go. He seemed to look hesitant to leave, but fear won out in the end- and he ran.

A Dollotron lunged for him, Red X flipped over it before landing behind to swipe it's legs out from under it. Though as he did, another Dollotron kicked at him- only barely blocking in time- he crashed through an old weak wall. His forearms and back throbbed from the force of the hit, it seemed they had enhanced strength to make up for their lack of intelligence. Picking himself up- Red X looked around seeing Dollotrons swarming the area. Easily there could be a hundred of them.

Scowling, Red X threw himself into the fight again. He couldn't lose, not when there were people counting on him. The teen decided no more playing games, he was going to use the most brutal tactics he could. His bo-staff glinted in the low light, the room was then bathed in a small glow of blue as electricity crackled from the end of it. He dodged an attack, weaving in between Dollotrons he starts letting out a stream of attacks. He moves gracefully like a performer, but his hits are hard enough to shatter bone. Aiming most for the knees to keep them down- it seems like not even that works long.

Feeling a prick in his neck, he looks up to see Pyg on a balcony overlooking the entrance hall. He's holding some type of gun. Reaching up, he realizes that a dart is sticking out of his neck. The world seems to turn violently, and he has to stagger to keep himself upright.

Focus.

He doesn't have long before he passes out, he needs to stop trying to stem the flow of Dollotrons and instead go for the source. Ripping out the dart he drops it before pressing his button on his belt. As he blinks temporarily out of existence, he then lands in a crouch on banister in front of Pyg. He feels his stomach lurch and black trickles into the corners of his eyesight.

Focus.

X needs to stay conscious. He narrowly avoids a hit from the blunt handle of Pyg's dart gun. He flips behind Pyg, Red X's knees almost buckle beneath him. He doesn't remember that move being so hard before. Once weightless and graceful, he is now heavy like lead and awkward jerky movements like he can't control his own limbs.

Focus.

Pyg whirls around and lets out a stream of pig like squeals that matches his name sake. Red X lashes out with his bo-staff, but with whatever sedatives Pyg had put in his system dulls his reaction time- he is milliseconds too slow. Pyg manages to dodge, though as he does, his back hits the banister and he flips over the back of the balcony.

Reaching out, Red X only narrowly grabs Pyg by the arm. Suddenly his mind flashes back to a rooftop, and Pyg's mask morphs into something black and orange.

Focus.

Letting out a yell, Red X hauls him back over the bannister. Pyg goes crashing through the double doors leading to the hallways. Only Red X doesn't see Pyg.

Focus.

His vision is getting darker, he lands on top of Pyg and leaves his bo-staff in favor of hitting him with his fists. The pig themed villain lets out a small squeal each time a hit lands. Red X is fading out, he's back in his old uniform. He's Robin- he's fighting Slade. He can't let Slade get away. He can't-

Focus.

Suddenly he snaps back, Pyg is still conscious, with a final calculated blow- the professor drops into unconsciousness. When he does, so do his minions. They litter the floor below like bodies after a plague, Red X only barely manages to stand up. He grips onto the door frame;

his hands are shaking.

Hitting Pyg with an adhesive X, the vigilante then stumbles over to the bannister. Leaping over, he uses his cape to glide down and slow his descent. He still lands too heavily, too uncoordinated. It feels like he's swimming.

The next thing he knows, he's breaking open a lock on the door to the basement. Kids are huddled together and clinging to each other for safety, when they see him- there is a mix of terror and confusion. "You're safe. He's not going to hurt you." He says, or at least tries to. One of them asks him if he's okay, but by the time she's finished with her question- Red X is gone. Like he disappeared into thin air. Sirens wailed in the distance, alerting the approach of authorities. It seems the kid had made it after all.

He staggered to a nearby alley, but once in a vaguely safe enough location to change out of his costume- it's like he's forgotten how the suit works. Once he's fumbled through that, his knees want to buckle underneath him.

His apartment is closest, by the time he shoved the case holding his Red X suit under the bed- he's passed out. He can feel unconsciousness consume him as his eyesight finally goes completely black.

* * *

Robin looks around with a small frown. "You think it was a turf war that took Pyg out? Fighting for control of the factory to make drugs?"

A shadow from the corner of his eyesight suddenly morphs into his mentor. He glides past Robin, busy trying to figure out what had happened. "Based on multiple eyewitness reports and evidence that's unlikely-" Batman started before kneeling down. "Whoever it was, they were alone."

"How can you tell."

Batman looked up, narrowing his eyes. "This is practice Robin. Why don't you tell me?"

The vigilante hummed. "Well, eyewitnesses only saw one person- one kid called them 'Red X'. Even if we were to toss eyewitness reports aside, based on the injuries the Dollotrons sustained seemed to be from someone trained. Targeted towards weak and soft areas, that takes a bit of know how. There weren't any indications of something different so that could mean only one person and one fighting style. Also, the window- it seems to have a small enough opening for someone my size- and that seems to be the only entrance way exploited, so it's doubtful there were any reinforcements. Good?" by this point, Robin had gone into a handstand as he talked. He did the same thing when he was talking to someone on the phone, an idle habit of his.

The corner of Batman's lips twitched upwards ever so slightly, but after a split second it was gone. "Adequate." Robin flipped back to his feet with a grin.

Batman then knelt to pick up something off the floor. "It would seem to be a vigilante. A mercenary hired to take out Pyg wouldn't bother to save the hostages- and likely would have killed Pyg. An infiltrator hired by a gang would have killed instead of cripple and likely in a more brutal and unsophisticated manner. This is different- Quick, clean, precise. Whoever it is, they're trained like you said."

"What is that?" The young vigilante asked.

Batman narrowed his eyes, he debated in thought. Whatever blood sample he could get from it would be too small. He then passed it to Robin to look at. "Sedative dart. It's empty. Whatever it hit, it was a big enough dose to render a full-grown man unconscious within a few minutes." Robin nodded and handed it back. Batman slipped it into an evidence bag before putting it in his utility belt anyways.

"So, possibly drugged- swarmed by creepy zombie things, and without backup. So not aster for them. They must be pretty good though. Right?"

Batman simply grunted. Hearing his comm line signal, he pressed it to get a notification from his police scanner. "Ivy's at the botanical gardens. Let's move."

"Right." Watching as his mentor strode out of the room- Robin took one more glance around before following after his mentor.

Who was Red X?

* * *

 **WHEW! And done! That took forever, and to be honest was a complete b*tch to write. This probably isn't nearly as good as either other chapters, but at this point I was kind like 'meh'. Anyways, I gave this chapter a more horror-esque type vibe. I didn't focus on fighting too much since I wanted to give it the atmosphere and the buildup.**

 **Also, because I suck at writing fight scenes.**

 **Haha.**

 **Anyways, a few things I wanted to mention- in this universe I am taking the liberty to say that Mr. Toad (usually Pyg's sidekick) is a figment of his imagination, despite it not being stated explicitly in this chapter, this is how I see it. Which is why Toad doesn't actually make an appearance. It gives Pyg a sorta unhinged grip on reality which makes him a bit more nerve wracking in my opinion.**

 **Also, despite being M rated for violence- I didn't want to give too much detail into the gritty bits (being the corpses and stuff) I could have but then I felt it would be too dark as a result. I tried to make a sort of balance.**

 **As always, if you liked this chapter leave a review. If you didn't like it- also leave a review!**

 **EDITS DONE ON 1/8/2019: I fixed the formatting. When I uploaded this I was severely sleep deprived and for some reason Fanfiction kept uploading the story while showing the HTML code whenever I tried to post it. So I removed all formatting and hoped it worked at least well enough to get the chapter out, since I didn't want to post-pone it any longer. It worked, but I didn't feel like trying to fix the format at the time- so it waited until now. Sorry for any confusion guys!**


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